Prom Date (9 page)

Fighting desperately to stay calm, Margaret turned the stereo volume up again and resumed her ironing. "I'm not going to end up under someone's tires, Caroline. Don't worry about it." I'll do enough worrying for both of us, she thought but didn't say. "And maybe I would have acted the same way if

you'd been asked to the prom instead of me."

"No, you wouldn't have." Caroline went back downstairs.

Adrienne came up a few minutes later. She looked puzzled. "Honey, have you seen Stephanie's red dress?"

Margaret looked up from the ironing board, a mixture of surprise and distaste on her face. "Mom! Have you forgotten she's not going to be needing it now?"

"No, of course I haven't. And I would never put it back on display. I thought Fd donate it to the theater department at school. Someone should get some use out of it." Frowning, Adrienne stood in the middle of the cramped space, hands on her slim hips. "But I can't find it."

"Where was it?"

"Hanging in a plastic bag behind the register. I called her on Monday and told her it was ready. She was going to pick it up early this morning. But of course ..." Adrienne's voice trailed off.

Margaret switched off the iron. "I'll help you look."

But, though they covered every inch of space in the entire shop, enlisting Caroline's and Scott's help, there was no sign of Stephanie's red dress.

"I don't understand this at all," Adrienne said when they finally gave up.

Neither did Margaret. But the dress was gone.

Mitch called that night, and he and Margaret talked for over an hour. Although she was curious about the police investigation into Stephanie's death, she didn't ask him about it. She didn't want him to think she was using him for information. And she didn't tell him about the missing prom dress, either. Too weird.

Caroline already knew about the missing dress, but they didn't talk about it when she called later, except when she said, "I told Jeannine and Lacey. They thought it was pretty j&reakish. I still think someone firom her family came in and got it. Maybe we were all busy somewhere else and they were too upset to talk about it, so they just took the dress and left. The bag had a tag with Stephanie's name right there on the front, and it was already paid for, right?"

Right. But Margaret found that scenario difficult to believe. Hard to imagine a member fi-om that devastated family coming into the shop to pick up a prom dress that Stephanie wouldn't ever wear.

Jeannine and Lacey were right-The disappearance of the dress was freakish. But it paled in comparison to Stephanie's death.

What it did do, though, was fortify Caroline's theory that the prom was somehow involved in these recent ugly events. Weird that Caroline herself hadn't mentioned that just now, hadn't pushed the theft at Margaret as additional proof that she was right. Caroline did so like to be right.

It rained all day Friday, a light but steady, chilly shower that turned the grass spongy at the cemetery. Standing under a canopy at the gravesite following the service, Margaret wished fiercely that the sun were shining, that the air was dry and warm. Stephanie had died in cold wetness. She shouldn't have to be buried in it, too.

When it was all over, Margaret was standing in line to pay her respects to the Markham family when she overheard Stephanie's older sister Ruth say sadly, "No, the police have no idea. It's so hard for us to believe that anyone would harm our Stephanie. She was so popular. Everyone loved her."

Not quite everyone, Margaret thought. But her heart went out to Stephanie's family.

The image of Stephanie dangling above the rocks, terrified, knowing she was about to die,

made Margaret so ill, she had to break from the line. She rushed across the sodden ground to find shelter on a wooden bench under a large tree. Slipping free of uncomfortable shoes, she tucked her legs up underneath her to keep her stocking feet off the wet ground, and watched the line of mourners greet the family.

When her stomach finally quieted, she decided to return to the line.

But when she saw Michael, wearing a dark suit, surrounded by a cluster of girls, Margaret's stomach revolted. Some of the girls were crying, among them Jeannine, Lacey, and Caroline. Were they all really expressing sympathy? None of them had known Stephanie well, if at all. Liza and Kiki were in the cluster, too, and Beth, hanging on to Lucas's arm, as if for support. Liza looked completely stunned, Kiki, and Beth devastated. They were crying.

At least, Margaret thought in disgust, those three were Stephanie's best pals, which is more than I can say for my friends. How obvious can you get? It's sickening.

"Bad day for a funeral, right?" Mitch's voice said in Margaret's ear.

She jumped, startled. "Oh. I guess. Is there such a thing as a good day for a funeral?"

"Good point. New shoes?" he asked, pointing to her feet. "Too small?"

"No. Too big. I was in a hurry when I bought them." The constant slipping up and down on her heels bothered her. She slid the shoes back on, wishing she'd worn more comfortable footgear.

Mitch's dark hair was wet, curling along his forehead and over his ears. "You haven't had any more trouble at Quartet, have you?"

The question surprised Margaret. She stood up. "Oh ... no. Why?"

"Well, I don't want to scare you," he said quietly, "but the cops think there might be a connection between what happened at your store and Steph's death."

^The connection isn't the store," Margaret said quietly. "It's the prom."

"What?"

"It's the prom. Has to be." She looked up at him. "Prom dresses ruined, Stephanie a sure thing for queen . . . what else could it be?"

"The prom?" He thought about that for a minute. "Any idea why?"

"Nope. Not me. Haven't a clue. Do you?"

He shook his head. "Someone who isn't going, I suppose. Mad that they're not going."

"Mad enought to kill? Over a dance?"

"It sounds crazy, I know. But Meg," his eyes on hers, "kicking Steph's hand away from

that railing was an act of insanity, wasn't it? Bad enough that the person up there with her didn't help her, and didn't get help for her after she'd fallen. Now we know they actually made her fall. You're right, a normal person would never think about killing because of a prom, no matter how many people in the cafeteria say, I'd kill to go to the prom.' They don't mean it, not literally. But a sick, twisted mind might think it was necessary. Might even think it was perfectly okay. Who knows?"

When Margaret said nothing, he added hastily, "Look, I shouldn't have brought it up. It's a grim enough day without talking about this now. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

Margaret knew he wanted her to say, "Oh, that's okay. I'm not scared at all."

But she couldn't say that. Because it would have been a lie.

"Got a ride home?" Mitch asked. "IVe got my truck/'

"Caroline brought me. But Fm not going home. I have to go straight to the store."

"I can take you there. Would Caroline mind? I mean, if you want to."

If she wanted to? Did she want world peace? An end to starvation? Did she want the person who had shoved Stephanie off that deck safely behind bars? "That'd be nice. Thanks. Let me go tell her. You wait here." She didn't want Mitch witnessing Caroline's reaction. It probably wouldn't be pretty.

To Margaret's astonishment, Caroline didn't seem to mind at all. "Oh, that's okay," she told a stupified Margaret. "We're not going home, anyway." She waved a hand to include Jeannine and Lacey. They were already on their way toward Michael, who was surrounded by his own friends. Liza still looked as if she were in shock, her eyes blank, her face drawn. Beth and Kiki had stopped crying, but seemed drained, their usual vitality gone. "We're all going back to Stephanie's house to pay our respects," Caroline said.

Margaret raised an eyebrow. "All? Meaning .. . ?"

"Oh, you know. Jeannine and Lacey and I,

and all of Michael's other friends."

''MichaeYs other friends?" Caroline barely knew Michael Danz. None of us know him, Margaret thought, any more than we knew Stephanie. Jeannine had been on Stephanie's basketball team at school but Margaret doubted that they'd ever exchanged more than two words. Not one of them could stand her, and they'd never made any secret of that. "You're going back to her house?"

"Um-hum." Caroline's eyes were still on Michael.

Margaret couldn't stand it. "Happy hunting," she said caustically and left to return to Mitch.

The disgust must have been apparent in her face, because he asked, "Problems? She mad at you?"

"What? Oh, no, she's not mad. They have plans."

"Would you rather go with them?"

"Absolutely not. But aren't you expected at Stephanie's house?"

He took her hand as they walked through the rain along the cemetery road to the parking lot. "That place is going to be mobbed. Stephanie knows . . . knew I'm not good in crowded places. She wouldn't expect me to show up there."

She wouldn't have expected Caroline to show up, either, Margaret thought, wiping her face dry with a tissue when she was seated in Mitch's new red pickup. Or Lacey or Jeannine.

Could they really be that desperate to go to their senior prom?

And had any of them been wearing black shoes at the picnic?

That thought was so involuntary and so stunning it took Margaret's breath away. She reeled with the shock of it. She couldn't really have wondered that, could she? What was wrong with her? Jeannine might not be the swiftest person in the world and Lacey was bossy and cynical. But they'd been Margaret's friends for years, and Margaret had never seen either of them commit a deliberate act of cruelty. As for Caroline, she couldn't even bear to shoo away the alley cats when Adrienne told her to.

Whatever had happened at the top of the lighthouse, it couldn't possibly have anything to do with her friends. No way.

Besides, this wasn't one of those disgusting teen horror films where the girl was so desperate for a date, she took a chain saw to anyone who stood in her way. This was real life. As in, Stephanie was really dead.

As Mitch turned the ignition key, he asked

lightly, "Haven't changed your mind about the prom, have you? I mean, if you're worried about a connection between it and Steph's death. Kiki tells me they're not going to cancel. She checked with Trotter." Trotter was Toomey High's vice principal. "He said canceling would just make things worse. I think he's right."

"I haven't changed my mind." Margaret shook raindrops from her hair. "And my dress is blue. Deep blue."

"Unlike shallow blue," Mitch said seriously as they left the cemetery road for the main highway.

Margaret laughed. "But don't rent a limo, okay? Too pretentious. Can't we just go in this?"

"A truck? You want to arrive at your senior prom in a truck?" He glanced sideways at her. "Hey, look, the check from my grandmother had more than one zero. I can deal with a limo."

"No, I mean it. I'd really rather go in this."

"Finally," he said with a grin, "what I've been looking for all my life. A cheap date."

Margaret laughed again, but then wondered if she'd said the wrong thing. Liza would never have settled for anything less than a limo, and Liza was the kind of person Mitch was used

to. Maybe, Margaret thought, my inexperience at attending proms is showing.

Too bad-She really did think limos were a waste of money, so why should she pretend otherwise? If he wanted Liza, he'd have asked Liza.

But he probably did, Margaret. Lacey's voice. What was it doing inside Margaret's head? He probably did ask Liza, Lacey's voice continued matter-of-factly, only Liza said no because she wanted to go with a college guy. And all of the other Pops were already taken. So Mitch settled for you. But of course you already knew that, right? Everyone at school does.

Shut up, Lacey! Margaret ordered. Mitch did not ask Liza. He was broke. He said so, and I believe him. It's not his fault everyone at school assumes he wanted to take her.

Lacey's voice subsided. But her words continued to ring in Margaret's head.

I don't care, she decided finally. I don't care why he asked me. I'm going with him, and that's all that counts.

"The cops are going to question Michael," Mitch said suddenly. "Because he admitted they'd had an argument the day of the picnic."

It took Margaret a few seconds to make the switch from Lacey's snide, imagined com---

ments to Stephanie's brutal death. When she had, she said, "They argued a lot. But they always made up." She glanced over at Mitch. "They can't think he did it!"

He shrugged. "Why not? Eddie says you always look to the closest person ... a husband, a boyfriend, a sibling ..."

"But Michael loved Stephanie!" Margaret remembered then Caroline's quiet comment in the cafeteria about Michael being unfaithful to his girlfriend. Was that true? With whom? Whoever she was, maybe the police should talk to her, find out if she now expected Michael to take her to the prom, with Stephanie out of the way. Wouldn't she be someone who would have a reason not to help Stephanie back up onto the observation deck?

Gross!

If the police hauled Michael downtown for questioning today, he wouldn't be at the Markham house when Caroline and the others arrived. They'd be crushed. No matter what they said about paying their respects, the unpleasant truth was that Michael Danz, who no longer had a prom date, was their only reason for going over there.

When they parked in front of Quartet, Mitch turned to her and said, "I want you to know something. You're the first and only girl I've

asked to the prom. I just thought you had a right to know that."

As if he'd read her mind. Margaret rejoiced. Take that, Lacey Dowd! "Thanks for telling me, Mitch." She grinned. "And you're the first guy I said yes to." No need to add that he was the first person who'd asked. He probably already knew that, but he was too nice to point it out.

Then she stopped grinning because he was kissing her and she didn't want him to bump into her teeth.

Before she left the truck, he said, "Decorating committee meeting tomorrow afternoon. 1 know you're on it. See you there."